


if you fall asleep, it wouldn't be the worst thing

by thetruthmayvary



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Little things, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 03:16:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/556282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetruthmayvary/pseuds/thetruthmayvary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry drinks tea before going to bed and talks in his sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you fall asleep, it wouldn't be the worst thing

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by Louis' solo in Little things, the title is from Little bird by Ed Sheeran.

Louis smiles when he enters the bedroom and sees an empty cup sitting on the night stand, next to a still full one that fills his senses with the smell of home and comfort. He spares a long look at the boy wrapped up protectively in the covers that rise and fall with his breathing, before walking to the opposite side of the bed quietly, sitting on the edge of it and reaching for the cup of tea Harry laid out for him.

It's almost cold, but Louis doesn't mind, it's how he prefers it anyway. He takes a sip of it before picking up the note that's lying under the little plate. He turns on the night lamp and reads it, mouthing the words, and a small, discrete smile creeps on his lips.

_You're late_

_I still love you, but_

_you are going to have to_

_make it up to me_

_H._

 

Louis concludes how he definitely won't mind making it up to him. He stares at the note, at the H written in one movement of the hand, and his smile spreads until wrinkles appear by his eyes. He turns to look at the boy under the covers again, half of his face buried in his curls, but the other half visible in all its glory. His skin looks pale, translucent even, his lips are parted and painfully full and red, and Louis has trouble keeping himself from kissing them.

He does, however, manage, because he doesn't want to wake the green-eyed boy up, especially since he knows that lips are going to start moving soon.

Louis doesn't think that Harry's aware of the fact that he talks in his sleep– at least he hasn't ever mentioned anything about it. But Louis couldn't be  _more_  aware of it. He loves it when Harry falls asleep first because that means he gets to listen to his deep, hoarse voice while drifting to sleep himself.

Most of the time the things he says make no sense – they either make Louis laugh or draw his eyebrows together in confusion, but sometimes he feels like he can understand his unconscious thoughts perfectly.

Louis takes his clothes off and sneaks into the bed next to Harry's warm body. He turns off the lamp and as he closes his eyes he hears Harry starting to talk.

“Mandarins,” he murmurs and Louis clasps a hand over his mouth to keep himself from laughing too loudly.

“'N a basket...No, you cannot enter...not invited, Sir,” Harry keeps going and Louis laughs even harder when he sees that he actually looks really troubled that this person is trying to enter without being invited.

He keeps watching him and his expression changes, a tiny smile reaches his lips as he says quietly “'m glad you like our music. And umm...Yeah, we are dating. “

Louis removes the hand from his mouth and stares at his boyfriend who's actually giggling quietly, something that he has never done during his little sleep talks.

“'s nice...not to have to hide...doesn't know...but....'ate it.”

Well, Louis thinks, he does know now. Though he sort of knew before, too.

“It's fine though...Lou's worth it...” Harry mumbles barely coherently, and just as Louis’ about to pronounce this Harry's most cognizant sleep talk ever, Harry takes it right back to weird.

“Wouldn't mind a bit of an ice-cream fever.”

Louis can't help himself but burst into a loud laughter, and it causes Harry to stir in his sleep, turning on the other side and pulling the covers even more to himself. Louis rolls his eyes and tugs on it lightly, but Harry doesn't let go, so he tugs a little harder.

That steers Harry enough to wake him up, so he turns to Louis all blurry eyes and puffy lips and messy hair.

“Lou?” he voices heavily, his arm reaching for him in the dim lighting the street lamps provided, entangling around his waist in a practiced manner.

“Sorry,” Louis says, his arm following Harry's example, and wrapping itself around the younger boy's slim waist. “But you were being selfish with the covers again.”

“Mmm,” Harry hums, his eyelids fighting to stay open. “You've seen my note?”

“I have,” Louis answers through a smile. “And I'm glad you still love me.”

“I'm glad I do, too,” Harry responds, his eyes shut now. Louis doesn't answer, because he's pretty sure Harry would be asleep before he could answer back anyway. So he just kisses the tip of his warm nose softly, promising himself that soon he's going to make his dreams come true.

At least the parts he can make sense of, anyway.

 


End file.
